Restoration
by Ophelia's Flower Wilt For Dark
Summary: Chap 3 Spuffy Fic. Buffy and Dawn are living Prague after the fall of the first. Each has a new life, but Buffy cannot escape the feeling of being followed, watched, protected? by a familiar presence.
1. Uneasy Normality

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any of Mr. Whedon's ingenious characters, I just find them bloody inspiring for fiction writing.  
  
Fantastic reading all!  
  
Uneasy Normality  
  
Cautious eyes scanned about her surroundings as she walked the lonely road back to her apartment. The absence of anything remotely dangerous within her line of sight was comforting, however she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following her. And despite how familiar she was with the sensation, she was uneased by it. Turning to face forward once again, she continued down the narrow European road, tightening her scarf to ward off the cold. Thought it had been nearly four years, they had been immensely difficult, to use a euphemism. The defeat of the First had been permanent, and though the hellmouth in Cleveland was still active, no more than five strange occurrences happened every year so things were relatively easy to control. Faith and Principal Wood were in charge there, and holding the fort down quite well, so there was very little need for her to even check in with them. And within a matter of days, Buffy Summers, once most important 'Chosen One,' had found herself inactive and fairly useless. She and Dawn had moved to Prague as soon as funds were secured and housing was found. The apartment was small, but quaint and quite lived in, and there was a gorgeous view of the city from every window. Dawn had insisted on that, claiming that the awe-inspiring views would prove excellent muses for her painting.  
  
That was one of the many changes that had happened since their move. Dawn was now fluent in Czech, and attending a prestigious art academy in the city with offers to work at many of the major art museums in the Czech Republic, Germany and Austria. The college life fit her well, and she had blossomed into a vibrant young twenty-something. And while Buffy envied her happiness, she was immensely proud of her younger sister for making something of herself.  
  
Buffy on the other hand had not found it quite so easy to adjust to being 'normal.' Having had very little experience with the feeling she had fallen into a see-saw pattern of highs and lows, with the highs being moderate and the lows plunging off the charts. She had found some solace, however, in writing. A few sad and slightly morbid short stories had been the result of a particularly painful night of reminiscing and from there it had taken off. Journal after journal had quickly been filled with her thoughts and feelings, taking form in stories of love lost and experience gained, a pattern she was all too familiar with.  
  
This night she had been immersed in her writing once again, stretched out on a bench in the park a few streets down from their building, and when she had halted to stretch her cramped fingers, she was startled to find the sun was below the horizon and the street lamp above her had been providing the illumination she had been writing by for the past several hours. Rising, she had tucked the journal back into her bag, slung that over her shoulder, and began her walk home at a leisurely, almost drugged pace. Then the sensation had come over her once again, the one she'd been having for so many months, that always came when she was alone and 'unprotected' from her surroundings, and from herself. She'd be walking home and feel someone watching her, following her, as he used to do so often. Or late at night, she'd return from her sojourn to the balcony only to see a shadow in the shape of a man in a dark corner, but when she blinked it would be gone. These glimpses hurt worse than the memories that she tried so hard to ignore.  
  
Unlocking the door she climbed the spiral staircase to her bedroom and let herself inside, avoiding the particularly squeaky floor boards and refraining from using any lights. Dawn worried so much when she fell into her depressions and it would do her no good to discover that her elder sister was out until all hours pouring her heart and soul into a blank book by way of black ink. She removed her coat and scarf, hanging them on the cast-iron hooks on the back of her door along with her duffel, but she kept the journal out. Setting herself down on her bed, she tucked the black comforter in around herself and pressed play on the small cd player on the table beside her. The soft, haunting piano melody emanating from the speakers provided the perfect ambiance for her to reflect on her writings, but soon she lost focus from her script, focusing instead on the heartfelt lyrics that struck all to close to her heart.  
  
I'll find a way, to see you again.  
I'll find a way, to see you again.  
  
I used to think that anything I'd do,  
Wouldn't matter at all anyway.  
But now I find that when it comes to you,  
I'm the winner of card I can't play.  
  
Wait for me, Wait for me.  
Darling, I need you desperately, desperately.  
Here.  
  
And I'll find a way, to see you again.  
I'll find a way, to see you again.  
  
The rain is like an orchestra to me,  
Little gifts from above meant to say;  
'Girl, you falling at his feet,  
Isn't lovely or stunning today.'  
  
Lay with me, Lay with me.  
I'm alive when you're here with me, here with me.  
Stay.  
  
And I'll find a way, to see you again.  
I'll find a way, to see you again.  
  
Why do the street lamps die,  
When you're passing by?  
Like a hand that won't stay on my shoulder tonight.  
If you held me close, would you laugh it away?  
Would you dare the glance that I steal to stay?  
  
And I'll find a way, to see you again.  
I'll find a way, to see you again.  
  
The rain will bring,  
Rain will bring,  
Rain will bring,  
The rain will bring me down.  
  
The rain will bring,  
Rain will bring,  
Rain will bring,  
The rain will bring me down.  
  
The tears had begun to drip down her cheeks shortly after the lyrics had begun and now they were pouring in torrential flows from her eyes. The woman's sultry voice struck a chord within Buffy's chest and released all the memories from their hidden box in the back of her mind to wreak havoc on her heart. Despite the time elapsed, despite the release given her by her writing, she couldn't drive him completely away, could never escape the memory of knowing that she had been loved for so long and taken that love for granted. Then, when she had finally admitted it to herself, and to him, he didn't believe her, wouldn't believe her, couldn't let himself believe the words he thought she had uttered to merely placate him before his end.  
  
The cd was on repeat and the lyrics of the song continued to stream through her head as she cried into the pillow, lamenting over the loss of the one she could never truly escape. If he had believed her, maybe then it could have, would have been different. But he hadn't. A strangled sob escaped her throat as she cried out to the empty air surrounding her.  
  
"Why? Why didn't you believe me? Why couldn't you?"  
  
Another sob escaped her.  
  
"You didn't believe, you didn't believe me....WHY??"  
  
The pain she was emanating was almost tangible in the room, and his heart burst at having to watch her go through this, at being unable to reach out from his seclusion and help her. The tears streaming from her eyes cut him deeply and he clamped a hand to his mouth to keep from whispering reassurances to her and revealing himself. He couldn't reveal himself, at least not yet. The Powers wouldn't allow it.  
  
Spike had been returned to the living shortly after the destruction of Sunnydale had occurred. Dropped shivering and naked on the side of a highway in the northern half of the state, he had quickly made his way to the nearest home and was given shelter and care. Within that house he discovered the changes. His new being was quite similar to the one he'd retained previously, curly platinum hair, ice blue eyes, handsome features, quick wit, quicker temper. Even the soul had survived. One thing was immensely different however, and he was amazed every day that he hadn't died of fright the first time he saw himself. That's how he'd discovered the truth. He had finished washing his hands and had looked up to find his blue eyes staring back at him from the mirror above the wash basin. Startled he'd thrown a hand to his chest only to release a yelp at what he felt there. The pieces slowly fell together from there. He had a reflection, he had a heartbeat, he had a soul. That could only mean one thing, he'd returned to life as a human. His confirmation had been stepping out into the afternoon sunlight for the first time in decades and basking in the glory of the warmth on his flesh.  
  
Soon after his discovery, the Powers had found him, and proceeded to explain his new condition and the consequences and restraints it put on him. While he retained his superhuman strength and heightened sense of smell, he was mortal, and could therefore be killed by any mortal weapon. He could deal with that. Then they told him the price of his newfound Humanity. He would be required to follow the slayer for four years. Follow her, watch her, protect her, but never speak to her, never touch her, never let himself be discovered by her, or he'd be killed instantly. However, once the four years had ended, and he had proved his self restraint and control, he would be free to do what he pleased with his new life.  
  
And it was by this decree that he found himself sunk in the shadows of his true love's bedroom, his heart breaking again, and again at the sight of her shattered one, on this the 360th day of his fourth year of humanity, unable to do anything but watch as Dawn burst into the room and began to comfort the one that he could not. It was all he could do to restrain himself from whispering the three words he wanted to say more than anything,  
  
"I believed you." Or rather, "I still believe you."  
  
He watched in anguish as Dawn wrapped her arms around her older sister, rocking her gently until the tears had subsided some, and then disappeared as the Buffy settled into an exhausted sleep. As she exited the room he settled down into what he now considered 'his corner' and contented himself with watching her sleep.  
  
It's not much, not that long at all, but I had to write it down. If anyone has any input I'd love to hear it, I'm new to ffn so I'm not sure how this whole review deal functions, but if you enjoyed reading, pop me a chat! Thanks ever so and bollocks to anyone who says the plot line is depressing, It'll pick up soon dearies, I promise!  
  
Brea 


	2. Meetings With the Dead

AN: I don't own any of these characters or their wonderfully quirky traits except for my originals. That's all. Lovely reading all!  
  
Meetings with the Dead  
  
She was breathing hard, tossing the covers as she turned back and forth in her bed. The layer of sweat glistening on her forehead belied her troubled dreams as easily as the pained moans that escaped her every few minutes. The only truly comprehensible sound was the word, 'Spike,' being repeated over and over as the heat of the dream consumed her mind.  
  
The light rapping at her bedroom door was just enough to pull the slayer from her troubled sleep, and Buffy opened bleary eyes to find her sister standing in the doorway, a mug of steaming liquid in her hands. The distressed look in Dawn's eyes was enough to prompt Buffy to attempt a smile, and she reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow and to attempt to tame her hair. Making space for herself on the bed, Dawn perched next to her sister and handed her the mug.  
  
"I made you some tea," she mentioned, albeit a bit too cheerfully. "There's ginger root mixed in, that's good for calminess."  
  
Buffy eyed the brew before sipping lightly, and a contented sigh escaped her lips as the hot brew slid down her throat, easing the muscles there.  
  
"Willow taught you well." Another sip and she continued,  
  
"What are your plans for today?"  
  
Dawn toyed with the end of one of her long braids, casting her eyes downward as she racked her brain before answering.  
  
"Well, my Art History class starts at ten. We're studying Greek urns right now, and I took a few pictures and emailed them to Willow and she thinks they might be these incredibly rare pitchers that were used to hold Holy Water in Apollo's Temple and she says we may be able to use them to..." Noticing the slightly amused, though bored smile on the slayer's face, she broke off that subject.  
  
"And you don't care so I'll continue with the 'To Do' list instead. After class I'm meeting Micha and Amelie at the fountain and we're going a street market in Sterboholy. Hopefully I'll be able to find a painting to hang over the settee in the sunroom that won't cost me out my ears, but who knows. It'll be worth the experience anyways."  
  
Buffy nodded and readjusted herself on the bed, tucking one leg beneath her as Dawn continued,  
  
"They wanted me to ask you if you wanted to come? There's supposed to be an estate sale going on this weekend, and with how much you like old books, I'm sure you could find something. Besides, I don't know if I'd be comfortable with you hanging around here all by yourself today. Not after last night."  
  
Seeing the protest forming on her older sister's lips she held up her hand,  
  
"Buffy, admit it. The nightmares aren't going to go away by dwelling on them. You need to get out of this apartment and do something other than write in your notebooks, because despite their helpfulness in venting your feelings, they are just another way to dwell on the fact that Spike is gone and he is not coming back. That's not going to help you." She moved closer to her sister and put her arms around her, allowing Buffy's head to rest on her shoulder, her tears darkening the fabric of Dawn's stylish pink sweater.  
  
"He sacrificed himself for you, Buffy, so that you would be happy. He wouldn't want you still be moping around after all this time. He'd want you to move on. Want you to be happy." Buffy nodded into Dawn's shoulder before pulling away and giving her sister a forced smile. The tears still lingered but Dawn could tell that they had subsided, and that the slayer half of Buffy was controlling her feelings now. She glanced at her watch and then stood up from the bed.  
  
"Ok, so I need to go to class now, but if you'd like to come with us, we're meeting at the fountain at one." She moved to leave but turned back to her sister.  
  
"I hope you come."  
  
Then she was gone and Buffy was left alone in her bed, her younger sister's words ringing through her head. 'Be happy...be happy...be happy...' Except she couldn't be happy, couldn't be content without him with her, and that was never going to happen again.  
  
She pulled the covers off her legs and stood before walking slowly to the window and throwing the drapes open. The warm sun was welcome on her cool skin and she placed her hand to the windowpane, taking in the view of the beautiful city below. It surprised even her, the extent of her emotions the last few weeks, but they always seemed worse this time of year. There were four days left until the anniversary of the destruction of Sunnydale, the closing of the Hellmouth, and Spike's self-sacrifice and that was all she could think about. It was like he had said to her so many years ago, just after she had been brought back from the dead. Every night she relived it, and each time she was faster, cleverer, more convincing. She talked him into leaving the amulet there and they escaped together, or she stayed with him and added her power to his to destroy the Hellmouth, or she found a way to transfer the energy from the amulet to reform him after he had dusted. But whatever the means, or the ending, one thing always remained the same: He believed her. When she told him that she loved him, he believed her.  
  
()()()()()()()()()  
  
The fountain was bustling when she arrived, and across the courtyard she saw Dawn and her two friends laughing and joking about something or other, and couldn't help but smile. As she began to walk towards them she studied the other two students slightly, taking in their ever-stylish appearances and good looks.  
  
Amelie's cropped brown hair was constantly falling into her eyes, and the navy blue highlights laced within gave it a unique look that matched her edgy sense of style. Today was no exception as she was dressed in a pair of black jeans with a yellow skull and crossbones tank and black fishnet on top.  
  
Micha, on the other hand, looked fresh pressed and spotless par the usual. His black hair was kept short and he styled it into fashionable spikes that matched well with his sandblasted jeans, vintage Ramones t-shirt, and leather jacket. And as always, Dawn looked polished, yet somewhat edgy, in her dark jeans, black tank top, pink sweater, and combat boots.  
  
Dawn looked up then and saw her, and giving a small wave, ran to meet her. She grasped her older sister's hands and leaned her forehead against her sister's telling her, "I'm glad you came," as their eyes met. She turned then and pulled Buffy to where Micha and Amelie still stood.  
  
"Guys, you remember my sister right? She didn't get a lot of sleep last night so she might seem a little out of it, but we're used to that aren't we?" Dawn poked her sister in the side and she jumped slightly, a small, slightly annoyed smile playing on her lips. The other two students nodded at her and smiled brightly. Micha took the opportunity to move next to Buffy and put his arm around her, starting her down the street in the correct direction. She walked slowly, glancing back once to peer closely at a blue and white striped awning, but then realized her mistake and turned back to Micha's earnest questions.  
  
Amelie and Dawn could hear faint parts of their conversation about the best years for binding, what type of print was better, what was the best publishing company in the 19th century and so forth, and they giggled.  
  
"You'd better watch it Dawnie. From the looks of things, your sister has the monopoly on things in common with him..." She teased before catching up with the 'couple.' Dawn just shook her head before joining them as well. Micha had asked her out after a painting class a few years ago, and they had quickly started dating for real. Going on three years now, she had absolutely no fear that Buffy would steal him away, and it amused her that Amelie loved to tease her so about it.  
  
Seeing that her little sister had rejoined them, Buffy successfully maneuvered herself out from under Micha's arm and moved so that Dawn was next to him instead. Micha grinned devilishly.  
  
"Well then, guess my attempts will have to be put on the easier sister eh?" Dawn just grinned and smacked him. Amelie and Buffy exchanged amused glances and Micha's laughter could be heard as the four rounded a corner toward the outskirts of town.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()  
  
He moved out from his place in the shadows of the Gelato shop's awning and watched them go. Though he knew the man was Dawn's boyfriend and not likely to have any designs on Buffy at all, he couldn't help the stab of jealousy that went through him at seeing Micha's arm go around Buffy, at seeing the young man talking so fervidly with her about something he couldn't quite pick up. The jealousy wasn't from his attention to Buffy however, but at the fact that he could touch her, could talk to her, could laugh with her, and didn't have to worry about dropping dead the moment her eyes came to rest on him.  
  
Though he knew she hadn't seen him, it had been quite a shock when her eyes had locked onto his hiding place as she walked out of the square. Almost like she had known he was there, but couldn't find him. And thank the bloody Powers for that. Not that he didn't want her to see him, want to see the look of astonishment and love on her face as he walked up to her and pulled her tight into his embrace, he'd just rather it wait until this death clause was up. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he turned down the road they had left on, following them to who knows where and he shrugged resignedly. These last four days were going to be the longest of his existence.  
  
()()()()()()()()()  
  
He was following a safe distance behind, enjoying the smiles that continuously played across his love's face. It had been a long time since he'd seen her smile so much, and he reveled in it. The only misfortune was that he wasn't the cause, but the old leather books were a good substitute he figured.  
  
The moment they'd entered the market the quartet had split into pairs, Dawn and Amelie moving off toward the south corner and a stand with dozens of large canvases, while Micha pulled Buffy down the small dirt road towards a stand with hundreds upon hundreds of old books. He'd wished himself the covers as her hands grazed over them lovingly. The young man was continuously picking up volumes and bringing them to her, asking questions about authenticity and years of origin and such, and she willingly answered, displaying a vast knowledge for the old tomes. Micha moved away again, placing one of the novels into his basket and continued to look as Buffy leafed through the books as well. He grinned as he saw the look of hunger come into her eyes before she began to dig through the stack.  
  
()()()()()()()()  
  
There was something under there, something, almost familiar, and she had to find it. She could feel it as she pulled the other volumes off from on top of it, and she yearned to know what it was. Her eyes lit as she pulled the incredibly old leather-bound out from the stacks but her touch to its cover caused her to start. A vision consumed her.  
  
She was sitting beside a lily-pond in the small garden behind their apartment building, pulling her hand through the water, watching in avid wonder as the ripples spread out from where her hand started them. A twig snapped behind her and she turned quickly around, only to have the breath knocked from her as she met the man's eyes.  
  
"Spike..." she whispered, but the disbelief was too great. It was broad daylight and he was standing in a shaft of bright sunlight. The only explanation for his still being whole was that this was a dream. But she reached out her hand anyways, and he came to her willingly, dropping down beside her before clutching her to his chest. She cried softly into his shirt as she held onto him desperately, never wanting to let go. She laid her head against his chest and started to speak when she felt it. A strong, fast pounding, that was coming from beneath his ribcage. She looked up at him then and saw him smile, then he leaned down and whispered into her ear,  
  
"I'm human pet. We can be together now. For real."  
  
She was pulled from the vision as Micha's hand landed on her shoulder. She turned to him and he squealed when he say the old tome clutched in her white knuckled fingers. Too shocked to stop him he pulled it from her grasp and began to examine it closely.  
  
"Oh gosh, look at the aging, and the intricate gold filigree on the binding, and the thick paper stock holding the cover in shape, oh and the amazing detail to this incredible Celtic design on the front cover, oh and what's this... Buffy look! There's a name engraved here in the bottom corner. The last name is kind of hard to make out, but it looks to have belonged to a 'William Freston,' maybe? Lets see what's inside, oh, it's just a bunch of script, oh! Buffy, do you know what you've found?"  
  
Her breath was stuck in her throat and it wouldn't move. Had she heard him properly? Heard the correct name? Or was it her mind talking and making her overly hopeful that she had found something of his? Something from before his destructive days even? But she glanced down at the cover and realized that the name Micha had said was indeed 'William Freston,' and her heart cried out at the thought. Micha's hand landed on her arm and he asked again,  
  
"Buffy, do you know what you've found?" She nodded.  
  
"It's his journal...William's journal."  
  
She gasped slightly at the realization and sighed resignedly. That's what that vision had been about then. Touching something that had belonged to him in his human days was enough to make her conjure him up in her mind as a human. Seeing that Micha was looking at her strangely she smiled at him reassuringly.  
  
"William Freston, didn't he become the one known as 'William the Bloody?' The guy you're always researching?" He asked her as he handed the book back into her grasp. She gave him a weak smile.  
  
"Yeah, he did."  
  
()()()()()()()()()  
  
He had watched her eyes light up as she pulled the book from the stacks, watched her tenderly caress the cover, and flip through a few pages before her eyes glazed over. A pained expression came across her face as the vision tore through her mind. Spike had no idea what was happening however, and was tearing himself apart inside, trying to think of something to do to help her without being seen. Then the man she was with came up to her and she seemed to snap out of it when he took the book from her grasp.  
  
Now with a clear view of the cover he shuddered, understanding that she had been pulled into a vision of him, and understanding why her expression had been so pained. Prague, eh? The journal had still been in his possession during the last battle, so he wondered how it had arrived here, lost in some old fogy's endless collection. Then the reason dawned on him. The Powers would have put it there to tempt her, to tempt him into getting it back. It would also explain why she would have been drawn to it in the first place.  
  
He backed up slightly with his hand pressed to his mouth, to stop the cry that he so wanted to let out. He continued stepping backwards, not really paying attention to where he might be going or whom he might be stepping on until he heard the angered 'OW!' from behind him. He turned to apologize before his eyes widened and he gasped.  
  
The young woman he had bumped into stared up into his eyes, her mouth opening and closing but no audible sound could be heard. Overcoming his shock, he clamped his hand over her mouth to stop her saying his name and quickly pulled her aside so that they were out of sight of Buffy and Micha.  
  
She continued to stare at him, disbelief clouding her features as she took in his appearance. The familiar duster, t-shirt, jeans and combat boots had been traded in for a blue collared shirt and a pair of worn in dark jeans on top of brown shoes. Based on his clothes she never would have believed it was really him, but the hair was still the same, though looser in style so a few sexy curls could escape, and the smile on his face was unmistakable. She put her hand to his face and feeling that his was real, launched herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. His hands rubbed her back comfortingly and he whispered,  
  
"Hello lil' bit. How've you been?" She pulled away from him and started muttering almost indistinguishably.  
  
"Spike...how...why...what are you doing here? Not that it really matters because I'm so happy to see you! But where have you been for the past four years? Why haven't you come to see us? Do you know how upset Buffy is about thinking that you're dead? She cries herself to sleep nearly every night! How could you let her do that? And oh my god, she still doesn't know you're back! I have to go find her, she'll be so happy! Stay right here!"  
  
She turned to run away but he threw out a hand to grab her arm. Turning to look at him, she noticed that his hand was now in the sunlight and he was neither dusted nor in pain. She looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Spike...?" He smiled ironically.  
  
"It would be more appropriate to call me William now, I think."  
  
Dawn gasped and moved back towards him, putting her hand to his heart and he saw her eyes widen even more as she felt the steady beating there. She met his eyes again then.  
  
"Spike...er...William, what..."  
  
"I'm human now pet. Just like you. Well, not just like you really...I have a limitation on my humanity." She looked at him, puzzled at his response.  
  
"What limitation?" He ran his hand through his hair before answering. Then he looked at her very seriously.  
  
"Buffy can NOT know I'm back all right? I'm here on Earth, and I'm human, but she CAN NOT know." Dawn looked at him in disbelief.  
  
"But...why not? It would make her so happy, she'd be so happy..." He cut her off.  
  
"Yes, pet I know. But she can't know. You know what day it is four days from now?" She nodded.  
  
"The anniversary of the defeat of the First."  
  
"That's right. The Powers that be gave me this gift, gave me back my life, as a reward. There's just one catch. Until the end of the fourth year, there's only one person I can never see, never talk to, she can't even 'think' I exist. If she has any idea I'm around, I'll die...again. And I don't really fancy leaving her behind again." Dawn swallowed, trying to take it all in, before nodding at him.  
  
"I got it. Buffy knows, you die. Really don't want that to happen either so I won't tell a soul. But, this is the fourth year right? So on Sunday, the fourth year will be up, and you can come see her right?" He smiled and patted her on the head.  
  
"Yes, on Sunday I can come see you both, and nothing will happen except I'll be a lot happier than I have been in a long, long time. Now go on pet. Your friends will worry about what's keeping you and then my cover really will be blown." She hugged him tightly again before scurrying off to find Amelie.  
  
He let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and groaned. Oh Gods that had been close. But no, he'd come too far for it to end now. He very much planned on spending the rest of his life with Buffy come the day, but until then she couldn't know about him or his new form.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
The exhausted pair climbed the stairs to their apartment, lugging the humungous canvas up with them. Once inside, Dawn proceeded to hang it on the wall while Buffy went to her room and leaned out the window to watch the sunset, the book she had bought today held in her tight grasp. She ran her hand over the engraving on the cover once more, recognizing it as the scar Spike had carried on his left hip.  
  
She opened the front flap and ran her hand over the binding fastenings, and the patterned paper stock that held the leather securely in place. When her fingers ran over a raised portion she was puzzled and pulling her pocket knife from her boot, she sliced open the cover and gasped when a few papers and an old brass key fell from the book. Dropping to the floor she set the journal aside and picked up the key and papers. She fingered the key for a few minutes before opening the papers and started as she saw that they were each addressed to her, poems, lyrics, short letters. But that was impossible, unless he'd still owned this up to the point of Sunnydale's destruction. She picked the book up again and held it to her chest, the tears starting to leak out, when Dawn knocked on her door.  
  
"Um...Buffy? This just came for you...It's from Giles." She set the large box down on her sister's floor and looked to her expectantly. Buffy nodded.  
  
"Thanks, Dawn." Dawn saw the book in Buffy's hands then and moved to sit beside her.  
  
"What did you find today? Anything good?" She wiped her eyes and handed the book to Dawn whispering,  
  
"It was his. Spike's. Or William's rather. All the way up to the end..." Dawn rubbed her sister's shoulder and then looked back at the box.  
  
"The package is marked 'Fragile,' want me to help you open it?" Buffy nodded.  
  
"Sure, that would be great."  
  
()()()()()()()()()()  
  
There was a letter on top of the packing material and Buffy picked that up, opening it first.  
  
Dear Buffy,  
I was sorting through some old boxes from when I had moved some things to England and I came across this one. It's filled with some of Spike's old things, some letters, a book or two, some clothes. Though I don't approve of your affections for him, I thought you might appreciate them. I know how much he meant to you. So they are yours now, to do with what you like and for you to never talk to me about again. I hope to hear from you soon. I'd like to know how things are going for you and Dawn.  
Giles  
  
Buffy set the letter down in a slight daze. It was almost too coincidental, finding the journal this morning, then this package arriving tonight. But the coincidences weren't the main things on her mind. She could see the edge of a black t-shirt from beneath the packing peanuts and she reached out her hand to touch it. Dawn's voice brought her back.  
  
"What did he have to say? What's in the box?" Buffy gave the letter to Dawn and pulled the box closer to her, starting to remove the packing peanuts. When she pulled out the t-shirt she held it to her chest and started to cry. Dawn saw her and tried to put her hand on Buffy's shoulder but she shrugged it off.  
  
"Um...Dawn...could I have a little time alone? To go through it all...I'll let you back in here in an hour or so. Could you do that for me?" Though she didn't want to leave her sister alone, she stood and left the room. Buffy turned back to the box.  
  
After the t-shirt came a few of his silk button downs, including the blue one that she'd so loved to see him wear. Then she found a couple of books, Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickenson, Jane Austen...she quirked her eyebrows at the last name. There were a few candles, some sketches, a ring or two, but what caught her eye was the beautiful mahogany box buried at the bottom. She pulled it out and tried to open it but found that it was locked. Disappointed, she set it aside and started to look through the books when it dawned on her. The journal, which had been his, had contained an old brass key. The mahogany box had an old brass lock fixture.  
  
With trembling hands she unlocked the box and slowly lifted the lid. Whatever was inside had to be important if he'd locked them away, but what she saw made her gasp. The box was filled with things she'd never seen before. A beautiful onyx ring set in sterling, which she slipped on her left hand almost immediately, marveling at how perfectly it fit her finger. A marble statuette of Athena that was filled with sweet smelling incense. A glimmering broach in the shape of a dragon, with emeralds for eyes and a ruby for its tongue. A long shimmering chain made of some precious metal, with a cross pendant dangling from it. She took that out as well, and as she slipped it around her neck she wondered at what he'd been doing with a cross, even one so beautiful as this. She was almost ready to shut the lid when she realized that the tray she had been looking through lifted out.  
  
What was beneath shocked her greatly, more than anything else had that day. He had loved her, that she knew, he had told her often enough though she sometimes found it hard to believe. But she had never realized just how deep his feelings ran until that moment. In the bottom of the box she found pictures, of her and Dawn, a few of her and Xander or Willow, one with Giles, but the majority of them were just of her. She could tell when most of them had been taken, some from her twenty-first birthday party, a few from a trip she'd taken with Xander and Willow, the one of her and Giles was taken in the Magic Shop, just after he'd returned from England the first time.  
  
She gasped, letting the pictures fall through her fingers as she found the only one that was framed. Taken just after she'd turned twenty, the picture was of her and him, during that strange week where Willow's spell had made them believe they were engaged. She was sitting in his lap, smiling at him, and he was just staring at her in astonishment and what she realized now was love. She took the picture from the box and set it on her bedside table, her hand running over his face lightly.  
  
Turning back to the box she found other things that shocked her. He had a lock of her hair, wrapped in a black silk ribbon, tied to a small velvet box. Nervously she opened it to find a sterling locket with her name engraved on the back. A gift he'd never given her? She set that aside and picked up the sheath of papers beneath. Another gasp escaped her lips as she flipped through the papers, discovering sheet music and lyrics for so many songs. She started to read some of the lyrics and couldn't stop the tears from coursing down her cheeks. They were so poignant, so moving. Beneath the papers she found a cassette tape, and hoping it was what she thought, she quickly popped it into her player. When his voice drifted out of the machine she cried out, ecstatic at hearing his voice again, but so distressed that it was just a recording.  
  
If I could take you away  
  
Pretend you were queen What would you say? Would you think I'm unreal? 'Cause everybody's got their way I should feel  
  
Everybody's talking how I can't be your love But I want to be your love Be your love for real Everybody's talking how I can't be your love But I want to be your love Be your love for real Want to be your everything Everything  
  
Everything's falling, and I am included in that. Oh, how I try, to be just okay. Yeah, but all I ever really wanted, Was a little piece of you.  
  
And everybody's talking how I can't be your love But I want to be your love Be your love for real. Everybody's talking how I can't be your love, But I want to be your love, Be your love for real. Want to be your everything, Everything.  
  
Everything will be all right, If you'll just stay the night.  
  
Please, don't you walk away, Don't you walk away, Don't you walk away. Please, don't you walk away, Don't you walk away, Don't you walk away from me.  
  
Everybody's talking how I can't be your love But I want to be your love Be your love for real Everybody's talking how I can't be your love But I want to be your love Be your love for real Be your love for real.  
  
She gasped as the song finished and looked up to find Dawn standing in her doorway, tears on her own cheeks, her eyes slightly anguished, but awestruck at the same time.  
  
"That was him wasn't it? He wrote that for you..." Buffy nodded happily.  
  
"He loved me Dawnie. He really loved me! It wasn't just some scheme, or a trick, or merely a figment of my imagination. He really loved me." Dawn nodded and then left her sister to her happiness.  
  
Buffy curled up around the box on the floor, and fell asleep listening to his voice as he started into the next song, her head resting on his journal, the ring still on her finger, the cross still about her neck, and the locket he never gave her clutched tightly within her fist.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
He wiped the tears from his eyes as he watched his angel sleep. The box had been his secret, where he hid everything that had meant anything to him. And though he had been anxious at first, seeing her figure out how to open it, the expression of pure joy that had come over her face as she found all his secret possessions had nearly made him jump in elation. And now she was sleeping peacefully for the first time in several weeks.  
  
Standing from his hiding place he gasped when he saw the onyx gem on her left ring finger. The dark jewel sparkled as she shifted, and the smile spread across his face at seeing her wearing the ring he'd received from his father while he was still human, and had intended to give to his bride. He took the comforter from her bed and tucked it in around her, kissing her lightly on the forehead before leaving through her window. Only three more days left and then he could tell her all those things in person. Tell her how much he loved her. Tell her how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and never let her out of his sight again. Just three more days.  
  
()()()()()()()()()  
  
AN: Oh good golly gosh gracious....my hands are cramping up something bloody awful due to the fact that I've been typing for nearly four hours straight. Bollocks, but this chapter is long! I hope you enjoy it and do please review! I appreciate them ever so much. Thanks to those of you who reviewed last time, you got me through to the next chapter! Love you pets!  
  
Brea 


	3. A Mortal Life

AN: Sorry that this took seven days instead of six. I've been so pumped about King Arthur coming out that I haven't really worked on anything but my sketches lately, but I did put up a whole new story! This is much shorter than it really should have been but I was very tired and I just felt right to stop it where I do, like the perfect commercial break. Oh, well, enjoy!  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
He was ready to rip his hair from his head. It shouldn't have been this hard, the waiting. But it was, oh heavens it was. He paced the main floor of the abandoned villa frantically, racking his brain for things to occupy him until Dawn would appear. Buffy was safe and sound he knew, still sleeping off the effects of last night's epiphany, and though that would normally mean he could sleep himself he was far too jittery. Only two days were left and then he would be able to stand before her, touch her face, feel her lips on his. Two days. And they would be the longest and hardest days of his life, he was certain.  
  
Plans were already in motion for how it would happen, how he would reintroduce himself into her life. So many ideas had raced through his head, but they all seemed so trite when he thought them through. Groaning he walked through the main doors out onto the small patio.  
  
"Bollocks man! When did you become such a pansy? This should be no trouble at all for you, just two days. That's all. 48 hours. Nothing you can't handle...so stop being such a nancy boy!" He berated himself, smacking himself upside the head. He was ready to continue when he heard laughter behind him.  
  
"Boy, Spike...or should I be calling you Will? Your accent is really...quite... obvious...when you're upset!" Dawn choked out between giggles. He growled and continued walking across the patio, away from her.  
  
"Yeah, well if you were in my shoes pet, I'm sure that Valley Girl within you would be a lot more prominent." She gasped in mock offense.  
  
"I'm not a Valley Girl! I don't even have blonde hair!" She held up a lock of chestnut brown to prove her point but he just smirked.  
  
"No, but you have the mentality." She grinned at him wickedly then.  
  
"I thought this whole humanity thing was supposed to make you a gentleman? I think they messed up!" A startled shriek escaped her lips as she was suddenly upended over his shoulder and carried back across the patio to be dumped in a padded cast-iron chair. A loud 'oomph' escaped her as she landed.  
  
"Hey, easy on the goods! Buffy will wonder if I come home battered and bruised." His eyes lightened at the sound of her name, but they darkened again as his mind whirled with the flaws of his plan.  
  
"You didn't say anything did you pet? About even the remote possibility of me being alive? Or that you were coming to see me, or my twin, even my evil twin, or anything like that? Because I really, really don't fancy dying a third..." He was cut off as Dawn laughed.  
  
"Relax Mr. Estrogen. She thinks I'm out with Micha. He and Amelie have been warned that if they see Buffy anywhere today, to cover for me. The last I saw of her was a mop of tousled blonde hair as she headed towards the shower to get ready for work." He nodded at her mutely before restarting his pacing. She giggled.  
  
"All right, are you going to tell me why you made me come all the way out here to this old house and waste a day I could be spending with my boyfriend instead of you?" He looked at her a little shocked before he realized that she was just teasing him.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Come back from the dead and this is the thanks I get? Pish posh." She laughed again and stood to hug him tightly.  
  
"It's so good to have you back!" She sighed against him as he rubbed her shoulders, but quickly broke the embrace.  
  
"Ok, mushiness over. I need to know the details if I'm going to be able to help you." She started to examine her surroundings then, looking at the view before taking in the sculptures and things littered fashionably about. "Umm....Spike?"  
  
He looked up at her expectantly. "Yes, pet?"  
  
"What is this place?" He smirked and shook his head.  
  
"It's a house...what does it look like? Crikes, and you're supposed to be the intelligent one." She glared at him before speaking again.  
  
"I know it's a house. But it's a rather large house, on a rather large piece of real estate, in a rather pricey area. How did you ever manage? Or is it just one of those... they don't see you, they don't care things? Oh gods...you're not into anything illegal are you?" She started to back away from him but he gripped her arms, shushing her.  
  
"Calm down, pet. No, I'm not into anything illegal, and this is my house and mine alone." She still looked confused so he elaborated. "It was my family's home, or one of them, before I was turned."  
  
Dawn looked at him, awestruck, and rather more confused than she had been.  
  
"I don't get it. When you become a vampire, you're supposed to forget everything about your mortal life...so how do you remember this as your family's house? How were you able to lay claim to it?" It was his turn to sit down.  
  
"That's the thing love, I'm not a vampire anymore. My mortal memories have been restored, and my demon ones...they're still there, just, not so prominent that I can't ignore them. Think of it as hiding them behind very thick black-out curtains."  
  
She shook her head, still not sure she completely understood, but trying to believe him.  
  
"So, you remember everything from your previous life then?" He nodded, and she continued. "Can you tell me about your family then?" He shook his head.  
  
"No, I can't tell you." Her face fell.  
  
"But I thought you said..." he offered her his hand.  
  
"I can't tell you, but I can show you." She grasped the hand he offered and moved to follow him.  
  
"Ok then, show me."  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
A low growl escaped from the petite girl behind the bookstore counter. The current time was two p.m. and she was starting to get perturbed at the woman browsing the racks. She insisted on walking up to the counter, as if ready to buy, then walking away, before coming back a few minutes later. It was tiring and Buffy was already too tired for her own liking.  
  
Finally the woman purchased her two books, a hefty purchase of twelve dollars...such a major decision. Buffy sighed as she checked her out. The job was helping, but nothing seemed to be able to draw her attention away from him for any length of time. Groaning she pulled her journal out and set it atop the counter. May as well take advantage of the lull in business to work out a few new story ideas.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
"This is my grandfather, and my father. This was painted just before my father married his first wife, Amelia. He's probably only about twenty." Dawn nodded, a calm smile playing across her face as she looked at the portraits hanging in the hall. There were so many of them, from as far back as five generations.  
  
"Was that your mother? This Amelia? Or did your father marry again?" He shook his head.  
  
"No, Amelia wasn't my mother. She did give my father two daughters, Isabelle and Maria, but she died in childbirth along with the son she was carrying a few years after Maria was born." He pointed to a picture of two beautiful women, around the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, each with dark maple hair twisted into elegant coiffures and deep, honey eyes. Dawn sighed.  
  
"They're both so beautiful." He nodded.  
  
"Yes, they were." He began moving down the long hallway again.  
  
"Did you grow up with them?"  
  
"Yes, they raised me more than my father ever could have. The true businessman he was. Never home, just around enough to get the women he married with child and then gone again." Dawn was slightly shocked at the bitterness in his tone.  
  
"What about your mother? Which one is she?" He laughed slightly.  
  
"Ah, that's the big secret see, my mother, apparently, or so the story goes, is the only woman my father was ever truly in love with. But she was not of the Gentry and he fell for her during his marriage to his third wife. Since it was uncouth to divorce during those times, he hired her as personal maid, and carried out an elaborate affair with her. When Gladys, his wife at the time, discovered the affair, she murdered my mother using a butcher knife she stole from the kitchen. My father never strayed again apparently." Dawn gasped, amazed at learning Spike's life history.  
  
"But, she'd already given him you?" He nodded.  
  
"Yes, that was how the affair was discovered. And after she was killed, Gladys pretended that I was her natural son, she apparently was unable to bear sons, and that's how I became the true heir, instead of staying the bastard that I was. It's all very twisted."  
  
"So there aren't any pictures of your mother?" He shook his head.  
  
"No, there is one, but you have to promise you won't freak when you see it, ok pet?" Confused, Dawn simply nodded.  
  
"Umm...Ok."  
  
Spike led her to a small bedroom at the end of the hall. Though lushly furnished, the furniture was sparse and spread out, but the thing that caught her attention was the rather large portrait above the bed. On it, was a portrait of a woman with long flowing raven locks that billowed around her slender neck and narrow, yet powerful shoulders. She was dressed simply, yet provocatively for a woman of her time. Her crimson skirt reached her ankles, but it was split to reveal a pair of black pants hidden beneath it. Her top was made of a single strap of fabric wound numerous times about her breasts. The truly shocking thing, however, were her hands. One wielded a sai, the other, a stake. Dawn gasped and turned to look at Spike, eyes wide.  
  
"That's right pet...my mother was a slayer."  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() 


End file.
